


Angel of Thursday

by QueenCimorene



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Destiel, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death In Dream, Chuck Shurley is Castiel's Parent, Chuck Shurley is God, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Halloween, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Psychological Horror, Season/Series 15, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Short One Shot, we die like winchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27335830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCimorene/pseuds/QueenCimorene
Summary: “Yes, Sam. I am dream walking.”“Why?” Sam asked, folding his tall frame onto Bobby’s worn couch. Cas opened his mouth but found no answer there.“I… needed to speak to you.” Cas said. The words felt true but he hadn’t planned on saying them until they left his mouth. “Without Dean around,” he added. Sam looked up at Cas, his eyes wide.“Cas,” Sam said slowly, his voice cracking horribly. He cleared his throat. Cas waited. That expression never meant anything pleasant. “Cas, Dean is dead.”
Relationships: Castiel & Chuck Shurley, Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	Angel of Thursday

**Author's Note:**

> So, I (like everyone else) was fic-inspired by the whole "Self Hating Angel of Thursday" Chuck Speech. Since yesterday was Halloween I decided to honor the spooky season with a short and hopefully somewhat horrifying one shot. Hope you enjoy it!

The voice made Castiel’s teeth chatter. The walls of the old bunker vibrated with the force of it. That couldn’t be good for the humans. Castiel turned, trying to narrow down the source of the sound. There was silence for a moment and Cas held his breath. Someone screamed and he started running.  
“Sam!” The name left his mouth before he had consciously decided to say it. He flew down to the dungeon, his wings flowing easily through the bunker walls as he opened them. He landed with a slight whoosh. Something wasn’t right but it didn’t matter. Not until he found the boys.  
His guess had been correct. Sam lay sprawled on the dungeon floor, blood flowing freely from his ears. Something hovered over him, impossibly bright. It moved with an ease and grace that felt deeply disconcerting in this plane of existence. The room smelled of fire.  
“Brother,” Cas said quietly. The figure did not hear him or did not deem him worth speaking to. Cas tilted his head.  
Of course, he wouldn’t speak to him. How could he have forgotten so quickly where he was?  
He knew fundamentally that something about this was off. He must have sustained more injury than he had first recalled. He glanced down at himself, indeed, the front of his shirt was soaked through in red.  
Sam began to writhe on the floor, his face tight and pale. Cas took a step towards him and noticed Dean a little ways off. His neck was snapped. Cas swallowed hard.  
“Sam-” he said. He strode past the glowing form and knelt beside the younger Winchester. Sam’s eyes opened a fraction of an inch,  
“Cas-” he breathed. Cas placed two fingers gently on his forehead and focused his grace on the young Winchester’s memories.  
They were in Bobby’s house now, as it had been when Bobby was still alive. Cas smiled fondly at the old house. He hadn’t paid it much attention before Bobby had died but now he occasionally found himself missing it. Sam was standing now, staring at him.  
“Cas? How did you-”  
“I’m sorry to intrude, Sam,” Cas said he shifted his weight awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to see… things that you might now wish me too.”  
Sam looked down, jaw clenching.  
“You saw Lucifer.” He said. Cas nodded.  
“I didn’t realize that my brother had been able to show you his true face. I am sorry, Sam… What you have g-”  
“Is this a dream?” Sam said, cutting off the compliment quickly. Cas frowned slightly but continued.  
“Yes, Sam. I am dream walking.”  
“Why?” Sam asked, folding his tall frame onto Bobby’s worn couch. Cas opened his mouth but found no answer there. The image of Jack, bent double, eyes glowing gold flashed into his mind.  
“Jack-” he began.  
“What happened to you, Cas? Are you okay?” Sam asked suddenly, leaning forward on the couch. Cas put up a hand.  
“I will be alright. My vessel has taken some damage.”  
“I’ll say.”  
“I… needed to speak to you,” Cas said. The words felt true but he hadn’t planned on saying them until they left his mouth. “Without Dean around,” he added. Sam looked up at Cas, his eyes wide.  
“Cas,” Sam said slowly, his voice cracking horribly. He cleared his throat. Cas waited. That expression never meant anything pleasant. “Cas, Dean is dead.”  
“No.,” Cas said. He felt like the floor had tilted under him. Dean couldn’t be dead. He would have known. He would have stopped it, he-  
“I’m dead, too,” Sam said, in that gentle way that Sam said very difficult things. His forehead creased deeply and he leaned forward again. “We’re all dead Cas, I’m… I’m sorry.”  
“No.” Cas repeated. “No no no no no no no…” He could not have failed so horribly as to have both Winchesters dead at once he couldn’t- he couldn’t bear thinking about that. They could not both be gone. If they were gone why was he here. He could not survive them. He could never have stood losing them there was no-  
“Jack?” He said hoarsely. Sam looked down. Cas spun around, this was wrong it must be, a trick or a trap. There was no way he could have lost his whole family. They couldn’t all-  
“Where are you?” he growled. He smashed his fist against the wall. He must be missing something. It was a trap he wasn’t really here.  
“Cas-” Sam’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He shook it off. No. he could not give in. He was in Sam’s nightmare he could get out-  
Bobby’s wall’s glowed.  
“Castiel,” Came a voice from behind him. It was higher than Sam’s, goading. Cas’s shoulders stiffened. He turned slowly, sliding his Angel Blade into his hand. His father sat where Sam had been, arms resting on the back of the couch.  
“You are so easy to play with, Cas. You know that?” Cas didn’t speak, just clutched the blade tighter in his fist. “How do you like it?” Chuck added, nodding towards the room. Cas narrowed his eyes.  
“Like what?”  
“Dreaming, Castiel. We aren’t in Sam’s head, you know. We’re in yours.”  
“I don’t dream.”  
Chuck smiled.  
“You didn’t dream.”  
“Why?”  
Chuck laughed.  
“Simple, Cas. I needed you out of the way. Well-” he added with a smile, standing lightly from his position on the couch- “I wanted you out of the way. Having you wake up to the dead bodies knowing that there is absolutely nothing you can do. They are gone and you weren’t even able to help them.” Cas took a step forward, Angel Blade raised. His breathing was coming out harsh and Jimmy’s heart beat loudly in his ears. “It's too late, Castiel. You failed. Sam and Dean Winchester will never be saved. The one order I gave that you EVER followed, and you couldn’t even follow it through. What was it all for Castiel? All that struggling? All the rebellion? They die anyway. They always do.”  
Cas lunged forward, a shout tearing from his throat. Chuck laughed, his red jacket crinkling as he raised his arm above his head.  
“You failed Castiel. I make the rules. I can always rewrite the book. You didn’t stand a chance, son. You FAIL.”  
Castiel lunged downward desperately, his knife striking deep into Chuck’s chest.  
Chuck began to laugh in earnest.  
He grabbed Cas’s lapel with one hand, dragging Cas down towards him.  
“Goodnight, Castiel,” he whispered. His hand tightened on Cas’s coat and Cas started to scream.  
There was a hand on his arm. He thrashed sideways, his arm connecting heavily with flesh.  
“Cas! Cas! It’s me!”  
Cas blinked blearily as Sam’s concerned face swam into focus. His arms were up like he was surrendering. Cas was in a chair in the library… Dean appeared in the doorway, hair tousled and gun drawn.  
“What the Hell is happening, Sam?” he barked.  
“Cas? Cas, are you ok? What happened?” Sam asked. Cas looked up. A bruise was already beginning to form on Sam’s wrist where Cas had managed to hit him. He stood quickly. Sam jumped to help him. Cas put up a hand, then reached out and curled his hand around Sam’s wrist, letting his grace mend the damage. Sam looked down in surprise.  
“Cas?” Dean asked, he had moved closer and his hand landed heavily on Cas’s shoulder. He smelled like shaving cream and the Impala’s leather seats. Cas let the familiar setting ground him. They weren’t dead. They were here. He was here. They would beat Chuck. They would save Jack. They had to.  
Cas met Dean’s wide gaze and blinked at the tears that were threatening to escape. Dean’s forehead creased deeper, worry lines coming out sharply. Cas felt like he might collapse.  
“I… fell asleep,” Cas said  
“You-?” Sam began  
“You don’t sleep,” Dean said. Cas shook his head.  
“Apparently now I do.”  
He blinked. Dean had a cut above one eye, it opened slowly as he watched and blood began to dribble thickly down his face.  
“Dean-?” He turned quickly to Sam, he was gone.  
“Sam-” he turned quickly as Dean’s hand fell away from his shoulder. Chuck smiled down at him.  
“Sweet Dreams, Angel of Thursday,” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> Pst: Go check out Misha's Charity www.randomacts.org


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